


Flamma

by Pathologies



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mid-Canon, Other, Pre-Slash, Rescue, ghost is that friend, ghost is the kind of ghost who might bail you out, since both of them are lowkey, this is kind of just flexing my action scene writing muscles, title is reference to a roman gladiator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 04:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pathologies/pseuds/Pathologies
Summary: The crossroads of two lives are numerous and unsurprisingly, tangled.





	Flamma

Many places had nestled deep within Hallownest, islands nearly separate from the sea of infection, from the rest of the kingdom. These islands held their own microcosm of a world, a place where time had stopped and there only remained the unfaltering present. The endless present. The senseless present. The cruel present. At the Kingdom’s Edge, a place already far removed from the towns and crossroads busy with warped minds, there rested a place more of a frozen icicle of time.

At the cavern where it laid, the nameless Ghost arrived to that icicle of time once more. There, outwardly one would only see what looked like giant skeletal remains connected to several chains. But inside was different. Inside was the arena dedicated to souls who wanted to prove their mettle. The Ghost remembered what they called it: the Colosseum of Fools.

They came here before. They proved their mettle in one trial, something they did not out of joy or anger but out of a relentless drive to go further the guessed. Ghost wasn’t the type to muse, but like the warriors and beasts trapped to serve the Colosseum in endless fight entertainment, they all had that unstoppable drive. In Ghost’s case it worked out since it won them a good amount of geo for their efforts. It’s what brought them this time: geo was something you had to have on you or your wanderings would be harder, much harder. Notions of fairness seemed alien to the Ghost, but what they thought was close to unfair.

One more trial and they can leave with more geo, it would be in and out. Simple. They passed through the Warrior’s Pit. Silently they walked by as insect folk with the armor and plenty of hushed glowering attitude to armor up what they couldn’t. The warriors seemed to case the Ghost with looks and whispers, none of which really made Ghost afraid. Rather, they turned around and stopped. To stare. Stare at all of them with those pitch black void eyes. Looking Ghost in the eyes would shut anyone up long enough.

With that business they went on their way to speak to the Little Fool and begin another trial. They came just expecting the Little Fool, hanging where he always hung: in chains upside down from the ceiling. To Ghost’s surprise there hung a new guest. They instantly recognized them, how could they not after crossing paths after so long? That solemn, even odd blue bug: Quirrel.

Ghost stopped, their nail dropping at the sight of their chained up friend. Their stare, was it surprise? Was it exasperation at seeing Quirrel get himself in a situation like this again? With that white blank face it was easy to read both for Quirrel.

“Hello again!” he greeted Ghost cordially, as though he was talking on a bench, “Always good to run into you. The people here, how they hunger for the next thrill. They have such a taste for brute strength yet it is married for pageantry...I could not resist seeing it.”

Ghost stood listening. From how they folded their arms, this comes as no surprise that a curious journeyer like Quirrel sought out the Colosseum.

“But ah...” he continued, “It appears they had a taste for me as well. Only time will tell if I am a fool like these warriors or a fool like--” his rambles became interrupted by Ghost nudging them, the strength of a small nailbearer like them making Quirrel swing in a big arc. Quirrel made some surprised noises as Little Fool laughed watching. Quirrel sighed as Ghost brought him to a cold stop, “Yes, I understand your surprise but surely you understand I can get myself--” He gasped again, swinging to and fro. Ghost stopped him again. Humbled, Quirrel nodded as the dizziness set in, “I am sorry for worrying you. Surely that can ease your mind.”

Ghost paused...before nodding in agreement slowly. They quickly trotted up to Little Fool, pointing their nail at Quirrel.

“He’s one of the live beasts we’re gonna use in the trials. Figure he’d make for some real entertainment.” Little Fool explained.

Ghost pointed again, twice for urgency.

“You want me to let him go? I can’t do that.”

Ghost began pocketing the geo they had leftover. This would surely cut in their pockets but it was worth it for Quirrel. Let’s see...fifty...a hundred…

“Ah the gesture is kind,” Quirrel assured, “But I’m not truly worth it.”

Ghost tossed a geo at their head.

Little Fool cut in, “Geo’s not gonna get him out.”

Oh okay. The vessel knows where this is going. They begin pointing their nail at Little Fool as the bug begins shaking in his chains, “I didn’t make the rules! That’s just how it is in the Colosseum! If you want to free your friend, you have to fight for his freedom in the trial of the Iron Fool.”

Coincidentally this would be great: getting geo and saving Quirrel. In actuality, this is going to be a lot of work. Ghost doesn’t get tired or know when to quit, but the vessel was looking forward to just going in and out for once.

“Just put your name on the Iron Fool shield and prepare.” the Little Fool told him.

Ghost walked past Quirrel, swinging the blue bug again. Quirrel sighed, helplessly arcing to and fro, “I’m becoming used to it now. Do not hesitate, I know I wouldn’t, my friend!”

Silently, poker-faced, they charged through the gates to where the crowds waited, cheering for the next offering of bloodshed. The frenzy exploded when Ghost made an appearance before the thirsty expressions in the stadium benches. That’s who they were to the audience: the bloody champion of the arena. Ghost stood unaffected by their roars of approval, those cheers drunk on the infection and the endless show they were meant to watch. Eternal, like the body of the Fool on their throne who watches silent and without life.

Planks burst from the dirt and gravel, reaching high into the ground. Several, after the next one made the sand disperse into clouds as they closed the space for Ghost, making the space for a fight narrower and narrower. Even then, Ghost regarded the intimidating Colosseum with the curious lift of their head. At the very top they found someone dangling from the top plank in a way they didn’t expect: Quirrel. The audience burst into laughter, finding enjoyment at the bug being chained up at the very top.

Ghost waved. Just to make sure he was alive.

“Yes hello again,” Quirrel acknowledged, “I came to observe the rituals and customs of this arena...I’m afraid I’ll be doing so much more personally.”

They knew Quirrel needed help. It wasn’t like with Zote at least. Their nail dug into the wooden plank, hopping upwards with incredible speed as they grappled towards Quirrel. As they climbed, the ‘contestants’ burst out. Winged fools, mighty armored bugs carrying scimitars, buzzed right after Ghost along with scores of tiny flies the armored squint. It wasn’t a simple matter of climbing upwards, it meant avoiding the cleave of the scimitar meant for their head. Just as one did that, they burst right to the opposite plank, embedding their nail in the wood. The maneuver confused the group of flying warriors for a good minute, enough for them to wander in the air before they set their sights back on them.

A group of armored squints dive-bombed towards the vessel. Ghost detached from the wood to swing an arcing slash across three squints, the nail bringing them to an explosion of orange liquid. Sliding against the wood, Ghost held on even as the friction burnt against their appendage.  
  
Meanwhile one of the winged fools had set their eye out for Quirrel. The blue insect wasn’t one to sit there idly as his friend attempted a rescue. Even with the dizzying affects of Ghost’s shove, he began swinging himself forward. Clank! The metal of the chains clashed against the flying fool’s weapon. A satisfying chink that brought a grunt of frustration from the gladiator. Grabbing the chained Quirrel, the fool attempted to toss the bug against the plank. What the fool didn’t count on, was someone like Quirrel to have some fighting experience under his belt. With a hiss, Quirrel directed the force of his throw to arc and swing. This time his body made a direct slam against the fool, spinning them head over heels from the force of his bodily impact.

Such an act didn’t come without a consequence. He felt the impact shake through his body, a shattering kind of pain that still vibrated from the impact point of his side and through the rest of his extremities. He winced, hanging there as he recoiled in pain.

Ghost launched themselves upward from the plank where they made their climb back up, lancing a big winged fool, puncturing their armor and piercing their insides. Ghost watched them follow the rain of their infested orange ooze to the ground. Ghost latched onto Quirrel’s side of the plank, silent and diligently breaking open the chains.

“I should thank you very much my friend...” he tapped Ghost’s shoulder as the flying fool who made themselves Quirrel’s nemesis, buzzed towards the both of them, “We can save those for later, of course.”

Ghost understood what he meant. With one paw grasping the chains, they brandished their nail with the other. Together nail beat against offending scimitar, the sturdy weapon denting the rusty metal of the scimitar. But this was the Colosseum of Fools, fools did not surrender or quit. Ghost beat again and again, the force of their blows bringing the flying fool to stagger back with each counter.

Quirrel watched, a smile forming from his face. How impressive this little one was. They possessed a skill and tenacity which could take itself further than before. How easily he saw it right now as they clashed against this tough gladiator. Of course, he was not just a mere watcher. Taking the part of the chain which from Ghost freed him, the astute insect whirled it in the air before deftly bringing the chain across the gladiator’s head. Being helmeted, this didn’t kill the fool. But the force of the impact stunned them enough for Ghost to skewer the warrior in one move. They silently watched as they yanked out the nail, orange bits and all, and watched the punctured flying fool drop to the ground in a burst of sand.

Freeing Quirrel, both of them slid to the ground. Quirrel sighed, gently patting the vessel’s head. He still clutched his side, but now Quirrel found a good weapon in the form of the fallen fool’s scimitar.

The crowd’s applause went silent when the planks dropped back into the gravel and the Colosseum doors opened. As her red helmet gleamed from out the shadows, the crowd burst into roars and stomps of approval. She approached the two of them, her challengers with the walk of a predator approaching two helpless prey laying unaware in the brush. Her giant curved sword rested over her shoulder, a fanged metal that exceeded her height. In tow crawling behind here was a beast, a beast ancient as the kingdom’s edge itself. It bore a horned cracked face with many eyes, a beast whose feral rage and destructive energy had only been restrained by her. Her, who won the awe of the Colosseum. Her, who Ghost fought once to both their chagrin.

The God Tamer.

“Hmm,” Quirrel brought a thumb to his chin, “To think not only would I discover one of the remains of the kingdom, but to meet a beast that might be the last of its kind? Truly a productive day friend.”

Ghost slumped their shoulders as they gave Quirrel that blank look.

He apologized, “Yes, I should focus on getting out of here alive.”

Just as he said that the God Tamer with no words pointed her sword in their direction. The creature must have had incredible synchronicity, for at that instant the beast screeched and rolled towards the duo. Both jumped their separate ways as the creature curled in a ball, violently rolling into the walls of the arena. Ghost attempted to stab downwards, only to get rebuffed and thrown off by the momentum of their roll.

Quirrel took a hold of them, stopping them from rolling towards God Tamer. She had a blade and she was just biding her time as her beast rolled back and forth between the stadium walls. Quirrel pat their head. Giving a wave, Ghost rushed to land a blow on the beast as it slowed down. Success! They got a good stab in it’s face, but it wasn’t dead yet.

At the same time, Quirrel kicked up dust to confuse the God Tamer. Yet not even a cheap trick like sand clouding the arena stopped their predatory saunter. Her blade came for Quirrel like a flash of lightning: heavy, but fast and sudden. Quirrel dodged out of the way before she swung for him once again.

Ghost figured it was time for the both of them to switch off on opponents. Ghost flung themselves into harm’s way, lifting their nail to block the hefty cleave of her blade before Quirrel’s eyes. They motioned him to face the beast head on.

For his small fascinating friend? Of course. Quirrel slid through the dirty gravel, kicking sand into the beast’s eyes. Even if God Tamer was an adept combatant, the beast would not easily avoid a simple maneuver as that. True to form, the sand in their eyes limited their eyesight. The bug took the chance to slash some opportune cuts against the beast, weakening it further.

Enraged, the beast roared and began to bash its body against and everything in its path. Unfortunately, in its path of random destruction, its head managed to bash against Quirrel’s side and throw him against the wall—hard.

Ghost glanced behind them mid sword-counter to see Quirrel, grasping his bleeding side and making misstep after misstep until they fell into the stony floor.

They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t hesitate speeding over and lending beat after beat into the beast’s face. God Tamer put speed into her step to stop the assassination of her steed. Yet Ghost would not be deterred, they unleashed a burst of dark energy that shot at the creature point blank. The beast trembled, orange ooze violently gushing from its body until—it burst into a cloud of orange miasma.

The audience had laughed, laughed at the champion they once praised. God Tamer fell to her knees, her weapon clattering to the side. As Ghost lifted Quirrel, she croaked an utterance of “Do it.”

Ghost ignored her. They signaled to the closed grate where the Little Fool would be hanging inside. Little Fool’s voice broke through the dark, “Yes I see you have beaten the trial. Even mighty God Tamer has been laid low. I suppose you can claim your prize...in exchange for no geo.”

They paused, glancing at the arena, then to Quirrel who held his bloody side and trembled from the shock. The Ghost continued onward, helping the bigger bug walk out in a slow shambling limp. They stepped beyond the gate, past the benches where other warriors gathered sharpening their weapons and giving Ghost a champion’s greeting. Ghost ignored it.

One fellow that wasn’t cheering had their shield at the ready, their eyes staring from beneath their blue hood. He followed Ghost and Quirrel being gently escorted. Ghost knew their stalker: Tiso.

“Hey you,” Tiso gestured at Ghost, “Don’t think because you won one challenge your fight’s over yet. You still have me. I won’t be so easy to end as those pitiful fools.”

Ghost continued escorting Quirrel, to a small room in the back that had been cluttered with planks and stones. With a few good whacks, the wall gave way.

“A little cheating room eh?” Tiso rudely suggested, “A pale thing like you had no chance on your own. Had to hide your weakness somehow. Pathetic.”

It was a hot spring. Ghost never broke eye contact as they set Quirrel down into the pale glowing liquid. Tiso, following suit, dipping in the opposite end of the spring, “You must think this spring gives you some kind of strength. You’re mistaken, I don’t feel any stronger. Just impatient for my next fight.”

Ghost’s attention was more fixed on the blue insect by their side. They watched as the heat of the spring and its strange powers began to heal the bleeding injuries at Quirrel’s side. He groaned, slumping with exhaustion even as life returned to him.

“Thank you, fellow traveler,” he sighed, “This has been a humbling experience. To call this place a Colosseum of Fools is apt...for to fight for only the sake of fighting itself, that is truly foolish. Perhaps in the older days of Hallownest...this place had a meaning that has been lost to itself.” his eyes narrowed to a pleased squint, “How fortunate a silent strong one like you had been by my side.”  
  
Ghost wasn’t sure what to do. They weren’t equipped to give care so...perhaps if they just pet Quirrel’s head? Petting seemed to be a thing done to many living creatures as a sign of comfort. It must have worked for Quirrel began to relax, laying back in the pool.

“I am grateful, not just for this time, but for the many times we cross paths.” His head gently bonked against the Ghost’s white bony head, “Let us keep crossing paths more, yes?”

“It’s no use conspiring,” Tiso said, “No matter what you have planned, a warrior like myself will win on skill alone.”

On that note, they broke off from the spring, only to run into the beaten warrior herself in the warrior’s pit. The God Tamer felt the collision of the smaller male before bluntly shoving Tiso aside, “Out of my way weakling.”

Back in the spring, the two contented themselves to rest together in silent contemplation. Ghost never got tired, but they knew Quirrel must have been exhausted by the way they began resting their head against their horns and closed their eyes. So Ghost could wait. They could wait until Quirrel sleepily opened their eyes again, raising his head.

Ghost hopped out of the pool, drying off themselves and their nail.

“I see you must leave again.” Quirrel said, “We are travelers. It is what we must do. Remember about what I said about crossing paths again. Maybe next when we meet, you’ll tell me if you’ve done what you must do, yes?”

They nodded as they offered their hand. Quirrel took hold, still walking slow despite his improved condition. They walked together outside where the Kingdom’s edge waited. Ghost gave a nod before light collected around their body and suddenly burst into a streak of light, streaking right to the horizon.

Quirrel sat down, admiring that energy, “Incredible.”


End file.
